The CAH Fanfiction That Should Never Be Looked At
by MySoulHeroEaterAcademy
Summary: Hetalia and Cards Against Humanity should not go together. Ever. You are warned. This has some possibly offensive material that may make people not want to read the fanfiction. If you don't like it, don't hate. This is sort of a crack fanfiction.
1. 1: First Comes An Apocalypse

NECROPHILIA

AN OEDIPUS COMPLEX

KAMIKAZE PILOTS

There was a dramatic blow of wind, followed by the crashing of thunder as a tropical storm blew in from the south. People seeked shelter, one after another hiding in their bathrooms or storm shelters. The world seemed to be flipping upside down. Everything was wrong. Like the Bible said, the world was coming to an end. Jesus! Jesus Christ was going to judge everyone! Each country was hit with horrible storms. Thousands, no, MILLIONS died within the first few hours.

While this happened, a World Meeting was held. Only the main Axis Powers and Allied Forces were there. Everyone else was hiding in their homes. Germany stood at the head of the long, round table. Every nation in one way or another was jostled and/or in pain. The blonde man coughed lightly into his arm. He had no paperwork prepared for the meeting. Everything was so abrupt that there was little to do with preparation in general. "Everyone, please calm down. This is very serious!" Even he was having trouble keeping his cool.

Italy was crying, and Japan was trying to comfort him. France was trying to look strong and remain calm, but he was very clearly shivering. England was bruising, as was Japan. The island nations were really taking heavy blows. China seemed more to himself than usual, and wore a heavy scowl. Russia hid the bottom of his face with a scarf, his arms wrapping around himself. America, aside for a cramp here or there, seemed serious, but also excited. He clearly wanted to save the world.

Germany continued with, "I'm glad all of you are still alive. Right now we must discuss how to save the world from infinite destruction. I won't bother with time limits. Just no interruptions. We need all the ideas we can get. Any ideas? Raise your hands."

America raised his hand and before Germany could formally recognize him, he said loudly, "I don't even know what the hell is happening, dude, but I have a great idea! We should build a giant storm shelter that can shield everyone from the end of the world and then we can fly on a big space ship onto mars and I have NASA so I'll be the hero! Everyone can help."

England scowled, face-palming and making a bruise on his forehead even worse. "Really? THAT'S the best idea you can come up with? For god's sake, the world is ending and you suggest making something impossible!"

"Why are you the hero?" Russia asked, speaking up quietly. "I have an idea. Why don't we kill God?"

"No! You can't do that!" Italy shouted, wiping away his tears. He angrily pointed at Russia, fear seeming to dissipate. "This is judgement day! If you suggest something so awful as to get on God's bad side, all your people will end up dead. Why don't we go see if the pope has any suggestions, si?"

"If it is judgement day, then God is the enemy, da?" Russia looked at the Italian, his face darkening. Italy sat back in his seat, lips quivering.

"We are fighting again." France frowned. "This is not the time."

Germany sighed. "Any logical ideas?"

"I'm leaving." Italy sniffed, standing up.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going home to be with my fratello. Maybe I'll talk to the pope and pray one last time? I don't know. I just don't know what to do and being here isn't helping anything."

Germany was about to say something, but Italy was already out the door.

England stood up. "He's going to get himself killed in that storm. Why don't you go after him?"

Just then the lights in the building went out. Everything was pitch black. No one could see anything. "Well that's just great-aru!" China whined.

*.*.*

Italy, while walking teary-eyed in the hallway, panicked when the lights went out. He wondered, _Maybe I should go back to Germany? _but then realized he wouldn't be able to find the door into the meeting room, so he sat in the hallway and waited. And he waited, and waited for the light to turn back on, and they didn't, so he started to freak out.

"We're all God's children, right? So should we even be scared?" Sure a ton of his people included had already died, but the pasta lover wished for some kindness in the world, some safety to put his mind off things. "Judgement day sure came fast. I've been an honest man. I go to church and pray. I'm pals with the pope. Romano is too, so he's safe. Si, we're both safe."

He heard a loud crashing noise, like a window shattering from down the hallway. He got onto his knees and began to pray. "Dear God, please forgive me on my si- HOLY CRAPOLA!"

A glowing woman all in white and blue appeared in front of him, startling the Mediterranean nation. "I am Mary." She smiled sweetly. "I am the mother of Jesus Christ."

"Wow!" Italy's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

"Really."

"Mother of Christ is mother of god, so you're everyone's mother! That's so cool~"

Mary blushed. "Thanks."

Suddenly everything was awkward. There was a real Oedipus complex going on, because Mary was smoking. She was 16 or 14, but she was hot as hell. Italy wasn't sure what to think of this. "What made you decide to come here, Holy Mother?"

"God had a message to give you. He wanted me to come give it to you. I don't know why."

"God works in mysterious ways."

"That's what he said when he got me pregnant." Mary scoffed, pulling a note out from the inside of her robes. "Check out this shit."

Italy blinked at her swearing and then took the note. It glowed too, so he could read it when he opened it. He blinked again, trying to read the horrible handwriting. The note said:

' **So hey, this is God. Yeah, you talk to me often, but here's the thing, your pope is full of crap. You don't need a pope to talk to me, cause I'm here for you, son. **

**So you may have noticed the world is ending. Guess what; it's not judgement day. I'm not even mad. I'm really a chill guy. Hell isn't real either, btw. Your life is a lie. lol**

**I've decided it's about time I make you countries do some work. I'm going to curse you Axis and Allies with children, because kids are the opposite of war. You're going to learn to be responsible, like terrorists, and take charge of your lives and others. You're all gonna get little girls, your children, and they'll be your daughters because I say so, and they'll also be the countries you all are, the ones that you get. In three days they will arrive.**

**PS. idk about the storm. It looks like everything's just going to crap in your world. Well, I'll fix it tomorrow. I have to rest at least a day after writing this long, well explained and explainable letter. **

**And btw, I think there are vampires in your world too that come out every hundred years to feast on people's blood. You should watch out for those.**

**See you later,**

**God.** '

The lights turned back on and Mary disappeared, the note disintegrating in Italy's hands. He was silent for a moment. "Um…" He stood up and walked back to the meeting room.

"What just happened?" Japan asked, looking over at his friend who walked back into the room.

Italy lifted his hands, which were covered in the note's ashes. "I was visited by the virgin mother Mary." He said weakly, "There is no hell. It's not judgement day. My life is a lie."

"That's good." America laughed heartily. "I was worried that the Kamikaze Pilots chose to target this meeting place instead of warships!"

"Could you not?" Japan asked irritably.

Someone was missing. They all could tell. France finally pointed it out, somewhat worriedly. "Where's England?" They all looked around. The Brit was nowhere to be seen.

*.*.*

England had snuck out just as the lights turned back on. Now England walked outside in the rain. By now, there were hurricane conditions. "Oh God this is horrible." He held an umbrella over his head, which didn't help much. He had sensed something in the distance, something dark and deadly. He was walking to a cemetery.

There was moaning coming from inside the mausoleum. "What the bloody hell is that?" he asked himself, narrowing his eyebrows. He carefully opened the mausoleum door, dropping the umbrella to his side, which was harder than it looked. "Is someone in here? Are you okay?"

He opened the door and didn't see anyone. He heard more moaning from just down the cold, rocky, slippery steps. The place was dark, but he had his camera light to guide him. "Hello?" Behind him the mausoleum door closed. He startled, turning back and slipping in the process, falling down the stairs.

He landed at the bottom of the winding staircase with a 'boom'. He was flat on his back, rubbing his head. He bruised more easily since the storm started, so that didn't help his aching limbs. A low, growling noise came from his right, echoing throughout the chambers. He couldn't see what was there because the fall had broken his phone, which also fell into a puddle in the mausoleum, which then died.

England went silent, trying to sit up, which hurt. A hand suddenly went around his mouth, and one hand on his chest, pushing him back onto the cold floor roughly. He felt someone get on top of him; a man. "Let go of me!" England yelled, punching the stranger in the mouth. He felt his hand get punctured by two sharp teeth. He sensed death again. "Oh, you're a vampire." he said, mostly to himself. He wanted to get out of there.

The man hissed, "Yes." and then reached and grabbed England's wrists, holding them over his head. The monster bent down and licked England's lips as the nation struggled to break out of the man's incredibly strong grasp. It was like reverse necrophilia.


	2. 2: How To Get Out Of Dark Places

LADY GAGA

STEPHEN HAWKING TALKING DIRTY

THE BLOOD OF CHRIST

America ran outside, not before putting in his MP3 player and listening to some hardcore '_Born This Way_'. "Lady Gaga has the best fighting music." he said to himself.

The storm was still stormy and he realized no one had followed him outside. He wished he had an umbrella, but then thought otherwise. "Brave the elements!" He yelled this and jumped into a puddle, only to slip and fall on his back. "Ouch!" He quickly got up when he heard thunder nearby and saw a lightning bolt strike a tree in the distance. This wasn't the first time he had left a world meeting in search of England. In fact this was his fifth time.

The first time, England was sick and went home, and America followed him. The second time, England left the room after a nasty argument with France, and America followed him. The third time, England was called out of the meeting and America followed him only to find out that he wasn't supposed to follow him, and was then sent back into the meeting room. The meeting had been private, with England and his supervisors. The fourth time, England had realized he'd dropped his phone outside after entering the meeting, so America ran after him. In all those cases, America followed him out the room to help him, excluded case number 3… and he also left to bug him. That was one of his favorite hobbies.

This time of course was to find the Brit. America wasn't enjoying the storm one bit. Despite Lady Gaga playing in his ears, he couldn't help but freak out thanks to high winds.

*.*.*

Germany pulled out a stack of papers. Russia, China, Italy, and France remained in the room so far. He read over the papers, leaving not one word unread.

Italy sat, still in a daze from Mother Mary's visit. "I'm going to be a father." No one listened. "We're all going to be fathers. God said so."

Russia, in the meantime, had pulled out a flask of vodka and had began drinking it. China had at first seemed indifferent to Russia's drinking, but apparently stopped feeling indifferent when Russia finished the flask and pulled out an entire bottle of vodka from his big, fluffy coat. The old country spoke up. "Why are you doing that here-aru?"

"What do you mean?" Russi asked innocently, taking another long sip of the potato alcohol.

"No one is here, but this is still a world meeting."

"Vodka calms me." The tall nation handed the bottle over to China, who instantly denied it.

"I don't want your potato drink-aru!"

"But it's good." Russia frowned a terrifying frown. "Why not?"

China crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't want it. That's why."

The nation looked sad. He hugged the vodka to his chest, and then drank the rest of the large bottle. "Fine." He seemed unmoved from the large amount of alcohol he had just ingested. "More for me, I guess." He pulled out another bottle, even bigger than before. China slammed his own face against the table in annoyance.

While this was going on, France was brushing his long, flowing, gorgeous blond hair with a comb. He turned to the distraught Italian friend of his. "What's the matter?" he asked with concern.

"My life is a lie." Italy said sadly, emptily almost. "God said so. I know the afterlife. There's no hell. I'm confused."

"There isn't?" France was surprised.

"I said that fifteen minutes ago. You didn't listen to me, did you?"

"Non, I was looking for England."

"America's outside doing that right now."

"I confined myself to this room. I'm not going out there in the rain and wind. My hair will get damaged!"

"That's a shame." Italy laughed without any joy. "Don't you care enough about England to go search for him?"

"Of course!" France was offended. "I'm sure he's fine."

"Really?"

"Oui."

"That's good to hear. I was getting worried." Italy suddenly perked up. "Maybe life isn't over. After this meeting I'll go home and make pasta!"

"You can also come to my place if you want." France said.

"Oh grazie! I would love to, big brother France! Of course only after I eat pasta."

"Call me when you're coming over."

Germany looked up from his papers. "I thought we were going to my place after this, Italy."

Italy suddenly looked slightly guilty. "Well, after France's place, I can go to yours…"

"Honhonhon~" France smiled. "What are you two going to do?"

"Nothing of your concern." Germany stated matter-of-factly.

Japan, seemingly invisible as he sat silently, took out a notebook and randomly scribbled something down about one of his OTPs.

*.*.*

England had managed to free himself from the vampire's grasp. "You bloody wanker! I'll burn you for that!" He fiercely wiped his mouth after the unwanted kiss between the two occurred. Luckily he wasn't bitten. "You're sick!"

The vampire made a weird growling noise. "Not at all. I'm hungry." The monster suddenly teleported behind the English man and wrapped his arms around his waist. "Hungry for you."

England elbowed the vampire in the nose. The man fell back, grabbing at his now broken piece of face. "You fail at being a proper gentleman, and you even fail at being a vampire. Hahaha!" England high-fived himself, a habit he was used to doing because he was lonely.

The vampire hissed and lunged forward, tackling him to the ground. England slapped himself in his mind for being so careless. He fought the man off of him, kicking the vampire in the groin. He got up and reached into his chest pocket, pulling out a pencil. A sharp, sharp pencil. "Oh no!" The monster yelped, scooting back as the green-eyed nation approached him. "Not that! Anything but that!"

"Are you afraid of this? A pencil? Or… a wooden stake?" England raised the pencil above his head, kneeling down over the vampire, ready to drive the weapon into the man's neck. "As I thought; you are afraid of this." He stabbed down the pencil into the neck of the beast. The beast writhed and yelled as he shriveled to dust. The country stood, dusted himself off, and tried to find his way out of the wet, stony mausoleum.

A scrambling noise came from behind him, and a ton of whiny childish, beastly whelps sounded around him. England began panicking, searching for the stairs. Whatever was surrounding him didn't sound friendly.

In the darkness, he tripped over an open stone coffin. Why it was open, he did not know. All he knew was that he was now being forced by many small, sharp-nailed hands into the stone coffin. A body, all bones, was already in there with him. He screamed as the lid was pulled over, the only thing keeping him access to any oxygen was him putting his hand where the lid was going to slide over and finish the sealing process. His hand was crushed, but there was enough room for him to have access to air coming in and out. At least he could breath.

*.*.*

America wondered briefly, _Where can Iggy be?_ Then he realized England was probably somewhere dark and mysterious. Considering there was a cemetery nearby, he went into it although his gut said not to. He was the hero, after all.

In the cemetery was a mausoleum. America guess that's where his England would be. After all, you can't spell mausoleum without an E, and E is in England, so the two fit perfectly together. "I hate this." America admitted, opening the door and lighting his way down the stony stairs with his phone, being careful not to slip. That's when he heard a familiar voice yell for help. "Iggy, is that you?!"

"Of course it's me, dammit!" England sounded frustrated and irritated. America followed his voice. He realized he was standing by a bunch of coffins when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Whoa bro, where are you?"

"In here!"

America realized then that HERE was in a coffin. He also spotted England's reddened fingers making space between the coffin cover and box edge. Everything that wasn't shined on by America's phone was black as night. "What are you doing in there?"

"Just get me out, would you?"

America quickly pushed off the coffin lid, eyes widening when he saw the skeleton his fellow nation was laying on. He was scared, but somewhat turned on. He could see England was slightly bruised and bloody. He helped England get out of the coffin, and carry him up the slippery stairs.

When the two were out of the mausoleum, England realized America hadn't noticed the dead vampire in the darkness or all the little vampire monsters that had surrounded him before the git went downstairs and found him. He decided against speaking of what happened.

"How did you get so injured?" America asked, helping England walk back to the meeting room.

"For one, all the disasters happening at home. I also fell down those stairs. You saw they were wet and slippery."

"But how did you get in that coffin?"

England thought for a moment, and then replied with, "It was dark and I dropped my phone in a puddle when I fell. I was looking for a way out and fell into the coffin by mistake. I was startled by landing on a dead body and accidentally moved the lid over the coffin, crushing my fingers which as you can see, are now broken." His fingers he had to create a hole to breath from with the coffin were indeed broken.

America didn't really believe all the story, but he chose to avoid the topic after England's answer.

*.*.*

Italy was bored so he prank called Stephen Hawking after finding his phone number on the internet.

"WHO IS THIS?" asked Stephen Hawking.

"Ciao, I'm from Italy and it doesn't matter where you're from. I just need to know when you're… talking dirty to me." Italy sort of knew the song '_Talk Dirty To Me_', but only so much.

"I'LL NAIL YOU TO MY BED AND TAKE MY LONG **** AND **** YOU UNTIL BLOOD COMES OUT YOUR *** AND YOU CAN'T WALK. WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH YOU-"

Italy hung up on the phone call because things were getting awkward. "Who was that?" France asked, looking at Italy whose expression was of shock.

"Stephen Hawking…"

"What?"

"Stephen Hawking was talking dirty to me."

"Non, that can't be…"

"It's true, though, unless that was an impostor Stephen Hawking."

"Impostor?"

"Maybe they used a voice changer? I found his number on the internet."

Germany glanced over at Italy. "What did you say about Stephen Hawking talking dirty to you?"

"... Haha, nothing." Italy looked away. He had to admit, the dirty talk was sort of arousing.

*.*.*

England entered the room with America. France quickly ran over to the two of them. "Why do you look so beat up?" he asked worriedly.

"No reason. I just got a little thrashing from the storm and some slippery stones and whatnot." England said.

America laughed proudly, "And I saved him! I'm the HERO!"

"Cool." Italy bounced over to them. "Maybe we can party now- FOR THE BLOOD OF CHRIST! OH MY GOD!"

"What is it?" France flipped out, along with everyone else in the room and the sudden outburst.

"The-the-there…" Italy pointed a shaky finger behind England. "What is tha-that thing?"

A croaking sound came from behind the brit. England turned around and saw a child-like creature that had gray skin and red eyes and a wide, toothy smile. It had sharp fingers and no clothing. It was almost like a human blob. Everyone but Italy and himself seemed oblivious to the disturbing, ghoulish creature behind him. England stepped away from the creature, starting to fall back, only to have France catch him. "Is there something there?" the Frenchman asked.

"... No." England narrowed his eyes. Everyone else couldn't see it, but for some reason Italy could. He was deep in thought. He chose to ignore the thing. "There's nothing there."

Germany stood up, announcing, "Let's get back to the meeting, shall we?"

Everyone agreed but Italy, who felt very singled out. After a minute or two of blank staring, the monster vanished from thin air. The nation blinked a few times, then joined seats with everyone else. He sat next to Japan.

"What is the matter, Italy?" Japan asked.

Italy thought for a moment, and then answered, "Nothing is wrong. I guess this storm is just throwing me off." He decided when he'd get home, before pasta, he'd pray for God to forgive him of his strong misuse of the Lord's name.

Japan knew something was off about his friend, but he didn't say anything.

Germany was finally relieved for the meeting to be back in order. "Now what are we going to do about the storm?"


	3. 3: Something Sexual Or Another

THE CLITORIS

INJECTING HORSE SPEED INTO ONE ARM AND HORSE TRANQUILIZER INTO THE OTHER

WHATEVER A MCRIB IS MADE OF

America crossed his arms over his chest as they exited the room. He looked around, seeing through a window what a mess it was outside. They didn't decide what to do about the damned storm. "Come on! Why do you guys never believe me when I say I'm a hero?!"

"Because you're an idiot." England said from behind him.

"Shut up, Eyebrows. I just saved your butt outside less than fifteen minutes ago!"

"You did- thanks. I'm just answering your question." England scoffed, "And don't call me _Eyebrows_, you git!"

"What is the matter with you two?" France asked, appearing by England's side. "More sexual tension?"

"IT'S LIKE YOU WANT ME TO KILL YOU!" the Brit seethed at the Frenchman.

"But it's true, _non_?"

"If just because two people argue all the time means they're experiencing sexual tension, you should probably be worried about looking your froggy face in the mirror."

"My face is beautiful. And of course I look at us. You're my Angleterre-"

"No. I'm. NOT!" England quickly hurried out the building.

"THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU SAID THREE NIGHTS AGO!" France ran after him.

America was very confused.

*.*.*

Italy was currently is the restrooms, washing his face. Germany was waiting for him in the hallway, and planned on not leaving the Italian to fend for himself outside. The Italian was tired. Very tired. So much so that he just wanted to lay in bed and sleep. The day had been a big ordeal.

As he washed his face, he heard a pretty noise behind him- like bells- and Mary reappeared.

"How are you?" she asked with concern. "God gave me the duty to check up on you. Why would you use my son's name in vein?"

Italy swirled around, eyes wide with fear and the blessed virgin. "I'm so sorry!" He got on his knees and prayed at her feet. "I didn't mean to! It's just- I was so startled by that weird monster England had with him that I couldn't hold anything back! I was terrified! Please, please pleeeeeeaaaaassssssssse forgive me! I repent! I repent! I love Jesus! Don't kiiiiiilllllll meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

*.*.*

Germany heard this from the hall. "What the hell?"

*.*.*

Mary looked down at him and sighed. "Come on. Stop that. It's not that big of a deal." She frowned. "He only died for your sins."

Italy wiped away any tears the had streaked down his face and sat down obediently, still on the ground. "Mary?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Why are you supposed to check up on me?"

"I have no clue." she replied. "God works in mysterious ways."

"Right…" That wasn't the kind of answer he was looking for, but coming from Mary herself, it wasn't half bad. "Okay, you see- I've never seen anything as messed up as what was behind England today. It had sharp teeth and was like an alien, only it wasn't like Tony. What was it?"

"That was a vampire." Mary cocked her head. "That's strange. God has no records of anyone but England seeing things that aren't there like ghosts and such. Perhaps you have a new power!"

"Oh." Italy still wasn't sure what to make of that. "I see… So he sees them too?" _That liar! So England wasn't telling the truth when he saw nothing!_

"Don't think about it." Mary said, "I don't know why you're getting this ability now. Maybe you'll need it?"

"I mean… That might be the case. I don't know. Is there anything else I need to know about?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"Well... " Mary blushed a bit. "God said that he wanted you to help him with a little… _something_..."

"A little something?" Italy innocently cocked his head. "I'll do anything for God. _Anything_."

The holy mother of angels laughed lightly and smiled widely. "That's great, because God said you'd be happy to do anything for him, even sacrificial, dirty, unholy, horrible, violent, criminal, tortious, Satanic, painful, self-harming, dangerous, perverted things."

"He said all of that?" The male country at this point was quite confuzzled.

"Yup. That's what he said."

"Well… What _is _it that He wants me to do?"

"He wanted you to explore something with him."

"What is that something he wants me to explore with him?"

Mary turned her head to the side, and slowly, deeply, in monotone she said, "_The clitoris_."

*.*.*

China went to his daily book club. He was the leader. He had many followers, but all of them were human.

"last week we started reading _The Fault In Our Stars_\- aru." China took out the _John Green_ book from his man-purse and asked, "How many of you have it finished?"

"I do!" One of his more proud, boastful, conceited, bitchy, yet academic followers, Shā Nǐ zìjǐ, raised her hand. "I finished it day after book was assigned! Right away!"

"Good. Anyone else?"

"Me!" Wúliáo Pìgu raised her hand with passion, only to get shot down by the next girl

"I didn't read it." China's former lover, Rìběn Fèihuà said with a close-mouthed smile. She had a lolita look to herself and was extremely adorable. "I was too busy shopping online and buying cute things on Ebay." She seductively lowered her stare at the country. "Things like Hello Kitty collectible items."

"Seriously?!" China's eyes lit up with joy at the sound of his favorite pussy. "I love Hello Kitty!"

"Good." Rìběn tee-heed. "I have tons of stuffed Hello Kittys in my bedroom. More than _last _time."

China was practically drooling. Not because of the seductive nature of Rìběn, but the anticipation of seeing so much Hello Kitty. The damage the storm outside wrought on his body seemed to disappear.

"What about _this_?" Shā Nǐ zìjǐ snapped, throwing _The Fault In Our Stars _on the floor. Wúliáo Pìgu gasped as if her heart had been crushed. "We read book, and for what? Hello Kitty? No. I don't think so!"

Wang Yao looked over at the two other, less seductive females in the pleasant, plain room they were in. "What?"

Shā Nǐ zìjǐ grumbled something and stood up. Gesturing to the four of them seated in a circle and the rest of the room, she hissed, "Used to be twenty of us! Now only four! Because of Rìběn and your flings! You never stay on topic. We read book, we talk about book, we get new book. This didn't happen week ago when Rìběn didn't show up!"

China didn't know how exactly to respond to that. His distraction away from Hello Kitty brought him back to reality. "Hello Kitty is just so distracting."

"I'll make you one." Rìběn stood and walked over to China. She sat on his lap in a very sexual way so they were face to face. "A Hello Kitty of your very own."

"What?" China's attention was again diverted to her. "How?"

"Whatever a McRib is made out of, I make for you."

China thought for a moment what that was, and when he realized it had something to do with McDonalds, he flipped his shit.

All the members were sent home right after. The man was left heartbroken.

*.*.*

America was playing video games at his house with Tony. That was one of the few things that made the end of his day. He was still thinking about what France had said to England. _It's probably nothing._ He couldn't help but be a bit jealous when connections were made in his brain that suggested France and England were in a relationship.

Tony had gone to the bathroom in his alien spaceship when America realized something; Despite having Tony around, he was lonely.

What do lonely people do when they are lonely? He could have asked England, but yet again, England was one of the reasons he was lonely. Besides, England was stupid.

"What should I do?" America looked at his TV screen. The game was currently paused on some dude's disfigured corpse. He forgot what game he was playing. Something like, dyslexic or something about dead things and zombie things and it had a number in the title and cool crab things on peoples' heads.

Perhaps now was the best time to open that special thing he ordered in the black market!?

America dashed to his hallway closet after retrieving a sharp pair of scissors, and pulled out a brown box that he had received recently. The box was still taped shut and unopened.

He hurried back to the living room, and stabbing the scissors into the box carefully, he opened the brown magic.

Inside the box was a vile of horse speed, and also a vile of horse tranquilizer.

"It's time."

This wasn't the first time America had done crazy crap. He'd done plenty of drugs- even with Canada, as most countries at one point or another had gone into that 'phase'. He just had some trouble leaving it.

And so he managed, remarkably fluidly, to inject the horse tranquilizer in one arm and the horse speed in the other. He immediately felt a reaction. "This is hard as hell, bruh."

*.*.*

His trembling hands caressed the smooth surface, shakily feeling the stiffness of it. He gulped, his stomach threatening to turn on him. He was so hot right now, sweating all over. England whimpered, eyebrows furrowing as he gulped nervously. "I w-want it to be g-good this time." he stuttered, eyes darting from what he desired to attack at any moment. "I just have to prepare myself."

"I told you," France started confidently, "I am going to prepare things here."

"I want to-"

"Not this time." France shook his head, his blonde hair beautifully flipping with his skull.

"... Fine." England hated it when France was right. He was never good at preparing things for himself, or the two of them when it came to this. He licked his lips and bit on his lower one as France got to work. The Frenchman's hands rubbed at the smooth, hard, glistening thing. He worked effortlessly, breathing calmly. The Brit gasped when France kept him from helping out, unsure of whether or not to be relieved, or angry that he wasn't being allowed to touch it too.

"You asked for this." France stated, looking at England's big green eyes with his blue. "You wanted this."

"Yes." England nodded, exhaling deeply. "I did ask, and I do want this."

"We don't do this very often. Why? I do enjoy it."

"I don't know." England moaned, feeling the pressure of the moment weigh down on him. "I hate you, you know. It's just… you're the only one who can help me with this little thing."

"I would hardly call this _little_, Angleterre." France laughed.

England's face reddened and he huffed, "Shut up and just do it, France." France smiled and turned things up a notch. He let go of the thing England was dying to touch and gently, he ran his wet fingers over the soft pinkness on the breasts England offered up to his French frenemy. "Are you supposed to be doing that?"

"Of course."

"But it's weird…"

"You've seen me do this before. I know what I'm doing."

England decided to put his trust in his partner. Meanwhile, France heated things up. As England watched the man do his work, the stubbled-chinned man hummed from his throat. "Can you speed things up?" The Brit was growing impatient, waiting for the whole thing to be over.

"You wanted me to show you how it's done." France reached over and for a moment his hand disappeared. There was a watery sound from where his hand had gone, like two pieces of flesh rubbing against each other, and when he brought his hand back up, it had a reddish-clearish, sticky fluid on it. The Frenchman brought his finger to his mouth and licked it. "It's salty… Too salty. I'll have to add something to balance it out."

England had had enough. "Listen here, France, we've been cooking for over an hour and I'm still not sure I get how it's done."

"I told you to take notes." France had finished cooking the duck breast at this point of time, in which England furiously took out two forks and knives from a drawer.

"I didn't take bloody notes!" Arthur then angrily got out two plates. Eventually he had the table set up for the two of them. "I asked you how to cook. You went too slow."

"I thought you'd have a problem with me going too fast. That's what you said last time we did this; that I'm going to fast."

"That was when we were shagging, you blasted idiot!" England and France sat together at the table, the room dimly lit and the fiery candle in between them flickering. He had to admit, though- the food was absolutely splendid.

The men were silent for a good period of time, eating their food with moans of pleasure on their tongue's rolling off frequently. "You know," France quietly spoke up, "if you ask me to do this with you, you can at least try to have a good attitude."

"How about you try to not be such an annoying wanker?"

"See what I mean?... Oh well, I shouldn't expect more from you, I guess."

"No, you shouldn't."

"You only asked me to come here to help you learn to cook… _again_."

"You didn't teach me well enough the first time."

"You mean the first of many times."

"Ugh, you whine so much."

"You're one to talk." Suddenly a note appeared out of nowhere, floating down in between them, almost being set fire by the candle. The two stopped eating, looking from the note and back to each other in surprise. England quickly grabbed it. "What does it say?" France raised an eyebrow.

England didn't say anything for a moment, and then read the letter out loud.

' **With all this arguing, one could say there's a lot of sexual tension between you two.**

**As a word of advice, you should really f*** right about now. You know, get it on, turn it up, get moving. Make babies, if you will. Just do it right now. Right now, on the floor.**

**You two are hot together.**

**Love,**

**God. '**

"What the…" France paled. The two were silent for a good five minutes, just staring at the note. Finally, France decided to take some action. "Well, the letter appeared from nowhere and it says it's from God."

"I sense something in this letter…" England nodded. "A powerful something. It really is from God."

"They teach you in church to follow God and do what he asks."

"Yeah."

"You know… I'm sort of liking the idea."

"Dammit, me too."

And so like that, they had sex on the floor. Not the first time, and definitely not their last time.

*.*.*

Italy came out of the bathroom. It had been a good four hours since he teleported to a secret place in outer space to explore the clitoris with God.

Germany had left, like everyone else. Apparently he got tired… That, or he realized Italy was no longer in the bathroom and freaked out and died. Probably a mix of both scenarios.


	4. 4: Preparing For A Party

THE HARSH LIGHT OF DAY.

STUFFING A CHILD'S FACE WITH FUN DIP UNTIL HE STARTS HAVING FUN.

A PINATA FULL OF SCORPIONS.

America opened his eyes after all the speed and tranquilizer he had taken had gotten out of his system for the most part. The harsh light of day met his dead eyes, even though he wasn't dead. He was naked for some reason, and not in his house. He was in a barn. "This is where horses belong." he said. "Those drugs were for horses, weren't they?"

He stumbled out of a of dirty pig pen which he had slept in and realized he wasn't in his home anymore. Nope, he was Canada. Not literally inside his brother in a sexual sense, but at his brother's home. Speaking of with, Canadia appeared around a corner and threw clothes at the naked, sexy nation. "Put this on." He sounded like the wind.

"Nah, bruh," America scoffed, putting the pants, shirt, and boxers around his neck like a scarf. "I'm free as a bird. I'm not putting clothes on. They restrict my vibes."

"Are you still high?" Cancanada asked angrily. "You walked up to my house last night and demanded that I give you more drugs. I denied you, and then you yanked out a clump of my hair. My hair, America. My HAIR!"

"Why do you say 'hair' so loudly?" the commando country laughed.

"Because my hair is one of the few parts of my body that looks fabulous!" Canofsandada put his hand up to a bald spot on his scalp. "It was long and flowy, and not I look like I have radiation poisoning. S-stop laughing! It's not funny! I could have bled to death!"

"What?"

"You ripped off some of my skin when you pulled out my hair! It was bleeding, I swear, you jerk!"

"Don't be mad, bruh, I was just playin'."

"Get dressed, and GET OUT!"

"Fine, I guess you _don't _want to see my package."

"NO, I DO NOT WANT TO VISIT FLORIDA!"

*.*.*

Italy, although he loved God with all his heart, was getting tired of the strange trips (not the drug-induced kinds, which were still fabulous). The first couple expeditions were fine, but they were growing weirder and weirder. Also, Mary's daily visits were becoming interruptions in Italy's daily life. Simple activities like cooking, cleaning, driving, sex, eating, paperwork, gardening were becoming more difficult to accomplish. Her appearances were always unannounced.

"I just can't believe that the virgin Mary keeps visiting you." Germany said as he got ready for a party. Since the storm had just ended, partying at the World Meeting was called for. Not that _he _wanted to party. It was everyone else's vote, and he was forced to comply… and help prepare for it. "It's so… strange."

"I know, right?" Italy le sighed as he sprawled on the floor, blowing up balloons instead of what he usually blew while on his back. The balloons were rainbows, because apparently he wasn't allowed to only use his flag's color. "But she comes without me even wanting her to. I love her, but it gets a bit on my nerves."

"Have you told her that?" Germany asked with slight hesitation. He knew something weird was happening to his little Mediterranean country, but he wasn't sure if he was hearing the whole truth.

"Of course not! That would be horrible!" Italy almost started sobbing. "Five days. Five FREAKING DAYS! I can't say the Holy Virgin Mary bugs me! That would be… be… a _sin_!"

Germany rolled his eyes. He still didn't understand Catholics. "Ja… Sure, okay. A sin. I see, now. That would go against your religion."

"No, Germany." Italy furrowed his eyebrows. "It would go against the _truth_."

"... _Ja_…"

The balloon Italy was blowing suddenly popped, and the Italian started crying because it hurt his face. "Why doesn't anything ever go as planned?!"

Germany got down onto the floor from his table and began comforting the smaller man, stroking the nation's auburn hair. "Now, now, calm down. Everything is going to be okay."

"Easy for you to say!" he continued to sob. "Soon _everyone's_ lives will be turned upside-down. God told me so!"

"... I'm sure we'll pull through." Germany assured him, kissing Italy lightly on the forehead. This immediately made him stop crying. He loved getting this affection from the firm country. Italy's eyes took on a more seductive nature, and the Italian reached up a hand a stroked the blonde's face, startling the taller man. "Feeling better already?"

"Si, Grazie." Italy sat up, kissing Germany sweetly on the lips, holding the larger hands in his. "You always make me feel better."

*.*.*

Romano was at Spain's place, sitting in a chair and filing some papers while Spain worked on a pinata. "What's that for?" Romano asked.

"This is for the party~" Spain said nonchalantly. The pinata was in the shape of a llama, and was currently being covered with rainbow paper. "I can't wait till we have it tomorrow. It's gonna be lots of fun!"

"... Whatever." Romano sighed irritably. "You make that pinata. I'll work. Like always."

"I'm not always making pinatas." Spain turned towards Romano. "I do work, too."

"Sometimes." Romano waved a hand at Spain, signaling for the Spaniard to turn away. "I don't care. Finish that thing up… Wait…" Spain had finished everything up until the point of filling up the colorful creation. That's when the Italian noticed Spain was carefully putting in the insides. "What are you filling it with?"

"What?"

"What's in the pinata?"

"Oh~ Scorpions."

"WHAT?!" Romano shot up from his seat and ran over to Spain. Indeed, they were scorpions. Spain pulled them out one by one from a bucket on the floor, filling the deadly insects with the life forms. "A pinata full of scorpions?!"

"Si."

"_Si_?! Are you crazy?! Do you _want _to kill everyone, you crazy Spanish bastardo?!"

"No, Roma. You've got it all wrong." Spain looked at him with a stupid smile that was somewhat scary etched across his face. "These things won't kill them. They're harmless."

"Oh really?" Romano glared at the man. "Why are you putting them in so carefully then?"

"In what?"

"THE DAMN PINATA!"

"I don't want them to get hurt."

Romano smacked his hand against his face. "Says the person who fights bulls. You hit pinatas with bats, you know."

"Why would anyone do that?" Spain laughed without care. "Bats are animals, too."

"GODDAMN BASEBALL BATS! Not the animal kind. The _metal _or _wooden _kind. You know, like sticks!"

"Oh~"

"I'm not f****** playing, Spain! My fratello's gonna be at that meeting and if anything happens to him, I'll kill you!"

"Nothing will happen."

"But…" Romano's face grew tomato red. "They're… they're freaking SCORPIONS you bastard!"

"Si?"

"I give up. have your scorpion pinata. I'm taking a nap." Romano then took a nap.

*.*.*

England was preparing for the world meeting party by baking some desserts. Of course, him being England, he was failing quite pathetically. He wore a gentleman outfit with an apron to top it all off that had written on it, 'KISS THE COOK'. He didn't buy the apron himself. It was a present from America, and England guessed America got it for him as an ironic gesture of friendship. It wasn't for a special occasion, anyway.

"Bloody hell, what is this?!" The British gentleman had removed a tray full of cookies from the oven, only to find out that the cookie dough he had put inside was no longer cookie dough. What had replaced it? He couldn't tell. Where each cookie had been was now something that looked like a dead, crisp, blackened, burnt mouse. He promptly scraped off the tray and threw the dead looking things into the nearest trashbin. He decided to check on something else he had begun to make.

Opening the freezer, he pulled out a colorful box. The instructions were simple: You've got a special shaped plastic box thing, you put in the water and syrup, you put in the sticks, and then you freeze it for a good hour, give or take however much time the things would need to freeze. Then out pops a popsicle, right? "Easy as pie." England said as he opened the box, realizing right after that he couldn't really make pie and had just insulted himself. "Easier than colonizing." Opening the box, he pulled out the special plastic, and as he did, his face paled in horror and he dropped the whole thing on the floor, any formed ice cracking and crumbling to oblivion.

Inside the box was a fish. The fish didn't belong there, as there were only supposed to be popsicles, and England had not put a fish in the box in the first place. "That's it!" He went to his final resort when it came to cooking… or his first and/or his only resort, depending on how you look at it. Basically, he called France.

*.*.*

France was, in the meantime, getting treated at a relaxing spa. The minute his phone rang and he saw who it was calling, his blood pressure spiked. The woman that was giving him a massage raised an eyebrow at him, and he waved her off. "It's nothing, honhonhon~" he assured her, "Just an old friend."

England's voice sounded on the other end of the phone when France pressed the green 'call' button. "_Oh my God, France, you have to help me."_

"What is it?" France sighed. He did like hearing England and talking to him and seeing him, but not when he was trying to relax. "Calm down. Are you in trouble?"

"_In trouble? No- well, yes, in a way."_

"What way?"

"_Everything I touch become something it's not."_

"You're cooking again, aren't you?"

"_Shut up! Of course I am."_

"Shut up?" France scoffed. "Are you _sure _you want my help?"

"_Yes. I made popsicles and a fish came out."_

"... Oh... " The country of love wasn't sure what to think of that statement. "A fish? Popsicles? Are you high or something? I'm at a spa. I'm trying to relax."

"_And I'm trying to do something that's for everyone at the party."_

"No one will eat your food, even if you manage something decent."

"_What? WHY?!"_

"You have a reputation when it comes to cooking."

"_Why do I even own an apron, then? Kiss the cook, it says. I'm not a cook. I have a life."_

"If I had a special apron that talked to me, it would say 'KISS THE FROG FOR A ROYAL TREAT'."

"_Not on topic, frog-face."_

"See what I mean?"

"_Ugh, I don't care. Why don't you make the food, then?"_

"I am. I'm making the main course. I don't know how you got dessert duty. I guess the party won't be long."

"_No kidding. We're busy people. Considering not everyone is going, some more than others."_

"I'm glad you're going. Less isolation."

"_Don't bring isolationism into the topic. Sometimes I like being alone."_

"But I know you secretly love me… Well, not as secretly as you used to~" France snickered.

"_That has nothing at all to do with this. Help me cook, damn it!"_

"Alright. I'll give you instructions."

England sighed relief. "_Thank you."_

"Step one: Get an egg out from wherever you keep your eggs."

The British gentleman did as told.

"There. Step two: Crack the egg on your head."

In desperation, England foolishly did that, realizing how stupid he was after the yolk drizzled down his face. "_What the bloody hell? Why would you say that, France?!"_

"Step three." France shut off the phone and got up from his massage. He needed a walk.

*.*.*

Russia was currently trying to work on providing party entertainment. Because he was having problems coming up with anything to do, he called China over to help him. China was busy stuffing a child's face with fun dip until they'd have fun. It was his new fun dip creation. It had fertilizer in it so the kid would grow big and strong.

Because he was alone, Russia conceived a brilliant idea for the party. He knew just what would get everyone going!


End file.
